


On having a boyfriend with OCD

by Hollow_Void



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Based on a Poem, Hurt/Comfort, Keith angst, Keith loves Lance so much, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Major Character Injury, angsty, keith has OCD, klance, lance is supportive, supportive lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollow_Void/pseuds/Hollow_Void
Summary: Based on a poem written by Meggie Royer. But Keith has OCDThe door though, was something that unsettled him the most. Opening and shutting it to 40 seemed excessive and the small creak of the hinges was unnerving.Eventually I had to tell him that if he kept opening the door,we'd have a whole bunch of house intruders“Keith, if you keep doing that to the doors, don’t you think we will have like intruders or something?” Lance sat up and pulled Keith into his side, holding him close and burying his face into the inky locks.





	On having a boyfriend with OCD

**Author's Note:**

> so I found this poem and was bored revising for exams so here ya go!

_He was always turning the lights on and off,_

_opening and closing the door, counting as he went:_

_thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty._

 

Keith flicked the switch five more times to get it to forty before leaving the room and doing the same to the door. These where the last light switches and doors that he had to do it to. He walked over to Lance and crawled into the bed in the centre of the room.

 

He slept on the left and Lance slept on the right. It had always been that way. The bed sheets were floral, with 6 symmetrical flowers that covered the lilac background. Each flower had twenty-four petals and two leaves. He pulled the duvet over him and turned to face Lance.

 

“Hey,” Keith smiled and kissed both of his boyfriend’s cheeks.

 

Lance smiled back and did the same to Keith. They had been dating for a year now and some of Keith’s compulsions were still confusing, but he wanted him to be comfortable.

 

Keith had OCD, something that Lance hadn’t leant the full extend to until he met the dark haired boy in the library all those months ago. He leant what made Keith anxious and what made him tick. He researched into OCD to see how he could help and he supported him through new medications and therapy.

 

The door though, was something that unsettled him the most. Opening and shutting it to 40 seemed excessive and the small creak of the hinges was unnerving.

 

_Eventually I had to tell him that if he kept opening the door,_

_we'd have a whole bunch of house intruders_

 

“Keith, if you keep doing that to the doors, don’t you think we will have like intruders or something?” Lance sat up and pulled Keith into his side, holding him close and burying his face into the inky locks.

 

Keith hummed before he started running shapes across Lance’s chest. “I’m sorry, I'm trying my best. I know it must be annoying to you, its annoying to me too. But I can’t seem to stop.”

 

“I know baby, I know. You are doing your best.” Lance kissed Keith's head twice before moving his own head out the way as Keith’s shot up.

 

They locked eyes before Keith looked down at Lance’s lips and placed a singular kiss to his lips.

 

_before the night was through. He responded by trying to kiss_

_me once,_

 

Keith pulled back and stared back at Lance.

 

Lance could see the agitation building up in Keith’s posture. His fist was curling and uncurling. It was obvious Keith was counting the curling of his fingers to put him off of wanting to kiss Lance again.

 

“Keith-”

 

“thirty-nine, forty.” Keith unclenched his hands and looked at Lance once more.

 

Lance could see the conflict flicker behind his eyes and couldn’t almost hear the irrational thoughts swirl around his head, persuading him to complete the kisses.

 

Keith sat in Lance’s lap and leant down so that their faces were almost touching. His hands were placed on Lance’s chest as if acting like the final barrier between him and the compulsion.

 

“I’m sorry.” The smaller boy leant down and brushed his lips against the Cuban’s.

 

_then ended up kissing me twenty-three times, then once more_

_for an even twenty-four. Then he had to redo two of them_

_because "our mouths hadn't been quite aligned."_

 

Keith pulled back and looked back at his boyfriend in shame.

 

“I didn’t do two right.”

 

He gave Lance two more kisses to fix the incorrect ones before pulling back and curling up on his boyfriend's chest.

 

“I’m sorry Lance.” Said boy watched as Keith tilted his head down in shame and embarrassment. “I can’t even kiss you right.”

 

Lance raised his hand and ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, staying weary as to how many times he completed the action. “Shh, baby, it’s okay. You kiss perfectly and I love you for it. Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

 

Keith just nodded into Lance’s before closing his eyes and letting himself fall victim to sleep once he felt Lance’s hand stop at forty.

 

_Some nights I'd wake up with the moon soaking the bedsheets,_

_listening to the sound of him repeating the word "fuck"_

_over and over: he'd stubbed his toe on the bathroom doorway_

 

Lance woke up to an empty bed and the moonlight licking the sheets. The door to the bedroom was shut, which was not unexpected, but the bathroom door was.

 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-”

 

Keith was sitting on the floor, one leg stretched out and the other cradling his head, which balanced on top. His baby toe was red on the stretched out foot, showing that he must have hit his toe on the door frame on the way in.

 

Lance got out of bed to check on Keith. He leant down to his boyfriend and tried to get his attention.

 

“Keith, baby. You okay?”

 

Said boy nodded but clutched his hair black hair in his hands and continued to swear. “Fuck fuck fuck-”

 

Keith lifted his head and nodded towards the bed, telling Lance that he's free to go back to bed.

 

_but couldn't stop swearing once he'd started._

 

He lowered his head and continued to chant the word ‘fuck’. He couldn’t stop. Not yet.

 

Lance looked down at the boy before telling Keith he loves him and crawling back into bed. He turned onto his side and stared at the bedding.

 

_I fell back asleep after staring at my pillow_

_until the floral patterns burned into my eyelids,_

 

Sleep followed soon after, after he counted the petals like Keith did on a regular basis. He could close his eyes and the flowers would be there. He was able to count them even then, the numbers somehow able to both ground him and taunt him.

 

Just as he was about to fall asleep, he could hear Keith counting to forty with the door and the lights.

 

His voice was soothing but there was a hint of irritation as well.

 

_dreamt the two of us went to an opera but instead of beautiful,_

_tremulous voices rising high into the air,_

_two sopranos were singing "fuck"to the tune of La Traviata._

 

Lance found himself and Keith standing in a large theatre decorated red and gold with beautiful marble pillars and velvet seats. They had their own seats in on the balcony, overlooking the stage and musicians.

 

That should have been the first sign that it was a dream, that and it was opera.

 

Keith sat next to him and held his hand softly, tapping in intervals of four on the back of his hand. He found the touch comforting and sat back into his seat.

 

There were so many singers on stage, all singing beautifully to the French song, but Lance couldn't make out any of there faces. They were like a blur.

 

Then, Lance heard it. In the wave of singers, two sopranos were saying the word ‘fuck’ over and over again in tune to the song that was playing. It echoed throughout the theatre but it seemed like he was the only one who noticed.

 

_He apologises the next day, says the new medication_

_made him feel like shit all the time so he took himself off it;_

 

Lance woke up to the bed empty and Keith’s side all tucked in and made. There was a post-it note on his bed side table with Keith’s box writing covering it’s yellow surface.

 

‘Morning sharpshooter, I'm downstairs, join me for some food. Love you xxxx’

 

Lance smiled at the note before folding it up and placing it into the drawer on the side of the bed. He got up and swung his legs over the bed, finding his blue lion slippers and putting them on. He walked towards the door, grabbing the robe on the hook and throwing it on over his blue silk pyjamas.

 

He headed down the stairs and walked into the kitchen to find Keith standing over the counter, finishing the serving of breakfast. It was bacon sandwiches, Lance’s favourite.

 

“Hey babe. Bacon sandwiches? You spoil me!” Lance moved around the counter and placed two kisses on both of Keith's cheeks before grabbing the plate in his usual plate spot and sat down in his table place. Keith sat next to him and ate quietly.

 

About halfway though, Keith placed down his food and turned to face Lance.

 

“I’m sorry, about last night.”

 

Lance stopped chewing for a moment before putting down his sandwich and turning to face him. “What do you mean?”

 

“The new meds I’m on, they made me feel really bad. So I took myself off of them. I guess it just hit me really hard last night.”

 

_I responded that it probably made him feel that way_

_because it was working._

 

“It’s okay babe. Though, there might be a chance that they were making you feel worse before you feel better. Don’t you think? Because they were working?”

 

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll go to the GP again at some point to talk to the doctors about it.” Keith smiles softly and eats the rest of his food.

 

He waits for Lance to finish before picking his plate up too, kissing Lance twice and going to put the plates in the dishwasher.

 

_Two days later the ambulance comes and takes him away:_

 

“Yes, I need an ambulance please, there is so much blood. It’s my boyfriend, he has OCD and- it’s so bad.”

 

“Sir please calm down the paramedics are on the way. Have you placed a compression on the wound?”

 

“I’ll do it now.”

 

Lance leant down to where Keith was laying on the ground, blood pooling and staining both him and the floor.

 

_he'd accidentally cut one of his wrists with the steak knife_

_chopping carrots for stew_

 

“Keith, baby. Can you hear me?” He leant down to Keith and brushed a strand of hair out of the way so he could see into the purple eyes he loves so much. But they were so dull.

 

“I’m sorry Lance-” He hissed in pain as he felt Lance did as the 999 operator told him to do.

 

Keith felt hazy but could see the tears streaming down his lover’s face very clearly.

 

“Lance-”

 

“Don’t say anything sweetheart. Save your energy okay?”

 

Keith didn’t listen though, he lifted up one arm, much against Lance’s protests and cupped his cheek. He pulled their faces together and placed one kiss to Lance’s mouth before loosing strength and collapsing back down.

 

“I’m tired Lance.”

 

“Don’t go to sleep baby, stay awake! Stay with me!”

 

Keith felt his eyelids get heavy and Lance saw how the energy drained with the blood.

 

_but couldn't have just one cut wrist;_

 

“Just a little while longer Keith.” Lance was crying now, pleading for Keith to wake up. His breathing was shallow and his heartbeat was light.

 

But he was still there.

 

“Keith, come on baby. Where’s my second kiss?”

 

The blood pooled more as Lance’s tears mixed with it.

 

“Come on Keith, hang in there please.”

 

_he had to have two._


End file.
